An Acquired Taste
by Hella
Summary: Tony receives a visit from a weary war criminal on the run. Alcohol happens.


**An Acquired Taste**

**By Hella**

* * *

Purple dusk was deepening into a warm summer night, and Tony Stark was drinking alone.

Well, mostly alone. Stark Tower was still a hive of activity even on a Friday evening and Jarvis was always a command away, but from the top floor penthouse balcony the solitude felt complete. Below Tony, the city stretched out in a glittering blanket of lights and glass and colour, the distant sound of traffic drifting up to him like a dream.

It was peaceful. Almost beautiful, really.

It pissed him off.

"Hell of a night for a broken leg," Tony muttered, glaring down at the bulky white plaster gripping him from foot to mid-thigh. "Hell of a night."

It had been just over a week since the skirmish with MODOK and his irritatingly effective psionic powers had sent Iron Man careening into an extremely angry Hulk, leaving him with one handy-as-you-please fracture to his tibia and an order from Steve and Pepper to stand down as Iron Man until it healed.

Tony wanted to say it was just an excuse for Rhodey to see some action in his stead but every time he brought it up Steve pulled the 'you're only human' speech, and damned if that didn't get his hackles up every time.

So there he was, brooding on the balcony with a bottle of his most expensive scotch, his crutches propped against the railing beside him, watching the evening sky change colours and scowling at the world. It seemed as good a way to spend his night as any. Crippled and stuck on the highest floor of his own tower with only himself and a bottle of booze and some painkillers for company. Whose idea had that been?

Tony had barely drained a fifth of the scotch when the world ripped open beside him and a tall figure jumped through the glowing tear.

A tall, very familiar figure in black and green. His eyes flashed bright for an instant; reflecting light or magic back at Tony. Maybe it was both.

Great.

"Well, I guess I owe Banner a new lab upgrade." Tony turned stiffly to face his new companion. "Nice night for world conquest, but I can't say coming back here is all that smart. What's it been, Loki? Two years?"

The warm glow of alcohol in the pit of his stomach dulled Tony's potential cold sweat down to mild alarm as Loki stalked toward him in the gathering darkness, his expression wreathed in grim shadow.

"Two years, three months and a handful of days, by Midgard's calendar," Loki replied, to Tony's surprise. His lips were a pale stretch of amusement. "Imprisonment tends to make one more aware of the passage of time."

Tony remembered that voice; smooth and cultured, a cool hint of arrogance threading through his words. But maybe it was the difference of a few years or something else entirely, but Loki didn't sound nearly as confidently menacing as he had last time.

"So you counted the days."

Loki lifted one shoulder in an unconcerned shrug. "There was little else to do."

Then he'd been locked up somewhere, after all. Thor had been a little fuzzy on the details before he left with the Tesseract and his brother, but he'd assured them all that Loki would be appropriately dealt with. Interesting.

Even more interesting was that Loki's armour was plain black leather and green, his horns and gold accoutrements nowhere in sight. It was a far cry from the dramatics of his last visit. Apart from the lack of posturing and threats there was a thinness to Loki's pale face, and something savage boiling behind his eyes.

"Why are you here?" Blunt but not outright rude, Tony cautioned himself. A broken leg and a belly full of scotch meant he was going to be in deep trouble if Loki was here to start something. He couldn't even suit up this time.

"Because this is where I lost, of course." Whatever sense that made in his head was completely lost on Tony. "He will not look here. Not yet."

Okay. "Uh, wouldn't Thor look here first?"

"I do not speak of Thor." With that Loki turned the full force of his gaze on Tony, assessing him from head to foot with all the singular intensity of a diamond laser. "Share your hearth for the evening."

Mid-way through a gulp of scotch, Tony almost choked.

"What? No. I have a strict 'no alien conqueror-wannabes' rule when it comes to inviting people in. Also, _why_? Can't you just…" He wiggled his fingers. "Magic up a place?"

Loki watched Tony take another healthy swig of scotch straight from the bottle, green eyes intent. Either the combination of painkillers and alcohol really had done something to his brain, or Loki had his eyes on the contents of the bottle. All doubt was removed a few seconds later.

"You never did provide me with that drink." Loki paused. "Wouldn't you say I've earned it after enduring such treatment from you and yours?"

_That_ was so grossly unfair it wasn't even funny.

"Did you forget the part where you tried to enslave the entire—oh my god, forget it. _Here_." He held the bottle out to Loki, who smiled thinly and took it in one pale hand. "I'm stoned on painkillers and my judgement is impaired. Have at it. I need to sit down." Turning, he grabbed his crutches and slipped them under his arms, heading for the propped-open doors that led into his penthouse.

Of course this is what would be dumped in his lap while he was crippled, angry and lonely. Perfect. He was going to take MODOK's exoskeleton apart with a chainsaw next time he saw him. Psionic asshole.

Jarvis was a humming wash of digital blue at his workstation, running the daily systems check as Tony hobbled his way into the warm light of the living area, making a beeline for the expensive couch.

Loki followed him in, scanning the room with interest. The bottle was secured in a long-fingered grip. Tony resented him a little for it as he sat down, hissing as he supported his leg. The plaster itched in places he couldn't scratch.

"Where are your Avengers?"

Tony wondered if he had a screwdriver somewhere he could stick down the cast. "Out. Busy. Fighting crime. Getting laid."

"Not paying attention to you." There was a smile in Loki's voice, and Tony didn't like it one bit. "What a shame. I could have some fun with you, were I gifted with more time."

"I'll try not to cry myself to sleep."

"Hmm." Loki circled the couch and sat himself down beside Tony. It was only then in the brighter light that he noticed the bruises ringing Loki's throat, yellowed and purpling like a collar had been pulled too tight for too long. Asgard sure had some strange methods of subjugating their criminals. Tony pretended not to notice how gingerly Loki bent and sat. It wasn't like he was faring any better.

"I had my leg broken by a living computer with an enormous head," Tony offered as Loki took a long swallow of scotch. If he was waiting for the pained hiss that usually followed a chug like that, he was disappointed. Loki just wiped his bottom lip with one finger and brought the bottle up to read the label. Then he passed it across to Tony.

"I had a serpent's venom slowly burn through my chest. You'll have to do better than that."

"It's not a competition," Tony replied sourly, purposely taking a long swig from the bottle. If his chest felt scalded and his vision swam a little, well, he was on painkillers. "Besides, snake venom doesn't burn."

Loki gave him a flat look and unbuckled his leathers enough to expose part of his chest. The flesh Tony saw there was raw, trying to heal over a burn that followed the pattern water might make, if it was poured over skin.

"Pretty," Tony commented mildly as he covered the wound again, reclining back into the cushion. The bottle that was passed across to him was taken without comment. "Pretty sure I've still got you beat, though. Remember when you tapped me with your staff?"

"I remember tossing you through…that window," Loki replied, pointing with one long finger at the reinforced plate glass. "But, yes."

It was probably madness to do it, but Tony unbuttoned his shirt and bared the arc reactor. Loki leaned over and stared at the glow of the recessed core. The look he shot Tony was indecipherable.

"Your aim was a little off," Tony explained, the corner of his mouth quirking upward. "Or my heart was. Arc reactor trumps snake venom burn."

Loki's lips twitched. "It's not a competition." Leaning back again with a sigh, he held out his hand for the scotch again. Tony gave it without complaint, but he couldn't help but wonder what the hell was going on.

Maybe the injuries were to be blamed for this less violent trickster. That or Loki didn't have much of a tolerance for spirits after being acid-burned by what had to be a damn big snake. Tony figured he'd had enough to drink that he was content to let Loki be for the night. If nothing else, it would make a great story to tell the others. Steve would be tripping over his shield to apologise for leaving him stranded like the angriest princess in the magic tower. There was a nice thought.

The bottle had dipped to just under a quarter full when Tony rolled his head across to eye Loki speculatively.

"I only have one bed. How are we doing this? Head to toe? I don't like to snuggle."

Loki actually snorted at that, his teeth a quick flash of white before his smile straightened out. With his head tipped back and his eyes closed, Loki looked almost relaxed.

"Have no fear, it will not be long until I can teleport again. Go find your rest."

"Not happening," Tony said bluntly. "Last time you invited yourself over, you brought all your friends and they trashed the place. Trust is earned." Plucking the bottle from Loki's loose grip, he capped it and set it down on the carpet beside him. After all he'd technically only offered one drink, not an entire bottle of Macallan.

It took a little effort and a hand on the arm of the couch for Tony to stand up, but eventually he got himself propped up correctly and held a hand out to the tired sorcerer.

"Come on, get your bruised ass off my furniture. I think I've got something for that burn upstairs." It was a pretty big olive branch, all things considered, and no way was Tony leaving Loki to his own devices in his home. The eyes that stared back at him were vivid green and a little glassy from alcohol and pain.

Without comment Loki took the offered hand and unfolded in one fluid movement, but it looked like it cost him to do it. Tugged forward by the surprising weight of him Tony couldn't help but stagger as his cast dragged on the carpet, almost falling straight into Loki's injured chest.

When his hands landed on Loki's hips and braced there he almost wished he'd let himself hit the burn. They stared at each other for a single moment, startled. No, actually that was just Tony. _Loki_ looked…almost interested. A horny drunk. Who knew?

"That leg is going to get you in trouble, Stark," Loki murmured, tilting his head back to regard him more clearly. Fingers flexed against his biceps and Tony realised that Loki had him in his grip, in more ways than one.

"See, I like trouble. It keeps things interesting." Shut up, Tony.

Loki stepped further into his grip, until they were standing almost flush against each other. Tony's crutches had fallen over and if he was honest he knew he wasn't getting away if Loki didn't want him to.

Hell of a night for a broken leg, he reminded himself as lips brushed his ear, warm and smooth. The rush of breath across his skin made every hair on his neck reach for the sky.

"I couldn't agree more." Hands slid down to the crook of his elbows, fingernails dragging as they moved. "Unfortunately, I haven't the time to cause any _trouble_ with you. I've lingered too long as it is." As he drew back Tony saw his eyes flash green, almost catlike in the way they gathered light. Loki's entire body seemed to shift like a wash of static had run through it. Time to go, then.

"Good luck with life on the run," Tony said, thumbs pushing beneath the seam of his armour, finding skin. "Who did you piss off again?"

Loki's smile was a razor. "Oh, I expect you'll meet _him_ soon enough," he replied, his voice brittle. "Good evening, Stark. Thank you for your hospitality."

"Who—" Tony's reply was muffled by the hard press of a mouth on his, there and gone in an instant. With his vision abruptly flaring green and the tang of ozone filling his nose, he didn't need to see to know that Loki had taken the flashy express train the hell out of there.

"Nice seeing you," Tony said to empty air, nonplussed. His mouth felt like an electrical charge had run through it.

Still, that had gone pretty well, he decided, bending down awkwardly to collect his scotch. A definite improvement on last time. A lot less plummeting and gut-clenching terror. The kissing thing had been different, too. He'd have to ask him about that if he ever turned up again.

All Tony could wonder now was what Loki had meant about eventually meeting his pursuer, and what that was going to entail for everyone when it happened.

Because if the god of mischief himself was running from him, it was probably going to mean a world of hurt for the rest of them.

"Keep an eye on the skies for me, Jarvis."

"_Yes, sir_."

At least they could try to be prepared.


End file.
